


Conjugal Serenity

by Sensitivelass33



Series: The Sig Chronicles [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-01 21:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5221640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensitivelass33/pseuds/Sensitivelass33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conjugal = adjective meaning of, relating to, or characteristic of marriage.</p><p>Serenity = noun meaning the state or quality of being serene, calm, or tranquil.</p><p>One-shot.  Asgard at rest.  Married life.</p><p>Follows "A Heart Untraveled."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conjugal Serenity

I have spent my life with mostly sporadic, restless sleep. That is, except a few months several hundred years ago, and then for the last four of this year. The one factor that influenced this was my love, now my Queen, Sigyn.

She was settling in here in this new realm and in the palace, though I know a part of her still missed the humble sod longhouse she had formed with her own hands. To be honest, I did too. But present circumstances were what allowed us to be together. So it was in a grand palace. The where mattered not. It was the who one was with that made the difference.

As she often did, on one particular morning she had woken up before the sun. I shifted in my sleep and realized the warmth next to me was missing. I turned over to sleep a little longer. What point was there in ruling Asgard if I couldn't decide to delay the beginning of the kingdom's day?

There were plenty of bedrooms in the palace, but this was one of my favorites because Sig liked it so much. The window and connected balcony overlooked a green expanse of countryside, with the mountains rising in the distance. It must have reminded her of home, of the way her country had looked when we met.

Having spent so long apart, we went about making up for lost time. Married life agreed with both of us. The previous time we spent together, short as it was, left the majority of our lovemaking (minus the first few times) frenzied and brutal. We loved as if it were going to be the last time, every time. Now, we could both take all the time in the world. And we did.

There was the sad fact that court matters and the ruling of the realm occupied so much of my time, so I could not just spend all day in bed with her. She seemed to keep herself occupied with exploring the palace and the countryside around it, so I felt she was in no danger of getting bored.

Marriage did not curb my appetite for mischief, but changed its form. Palace life was sometimes a chore; for one, it took forever to get from one end of the building, if you were not practiced at sorcery. Unfortunately, Sig had no talent for it, so she was often annoyed at having to rush about.

But one good thing about having such cavernous rooms was the echo. And try as she may, Sig could not suppress her cries of pleasure. Again, the time we had spent apart had intensified all feelings between us. So it became a personal challenge to see how loud I could make her scream. Yes, it was embarrassing when she recognized in the face of a servant that they had heard her when they asked how she had slept or something to that effect. But it could not be avoided, so she lived with it.

My outdoorswoman got her fill of scenery; I did not insist on an escort after the first few times she went out alone, as much as I would have liked to do so. More or less she demanded it of me. “I survived this long...I can protect myself. I lived in Brooklyn!” To quell my fears she promised me she would work with one of the guards in order to learn a bit more how to protect herself with knives or swords. Her bow had always done well in the past, but she would give me this peace of mind. “Besides, I’m the queen. I know such a position does not guarantee my safety, but surely one would have to be pretty idiotic to attack me.”

She had a point, though knowing how my mother died still shook me. At present there was no invasion of those of other realms, but there was the possibility.

Finally the time for sleep passed, and I sought my bride. I found her as she often was, deep in thought, looking out over the realm from the balcony, her favorite place. As often as she wore her hair up during our time together in Midgard, she now seldom confined it back, except for hunting. I suppose the outward sign she chose to demonstrate her feeling of inner freedom.

This woman captivated me in any realm, in any garb, from that thick Norse apron dress to the leather jacket and denim trousers of 21st century Midgard she had worn when I visited her dream. But something about seeing her in something so gossamer, soft, and pink as she was wearing now, something that glided so smoothly behind her as she walked, made me feel as if she were the most beautiful thing in existence in all of the nine realms. In Asgard, I often had the feeling that she had never looked as beautiful as she did now, except for every subsequent moment afterwards.

Hearing the padding of my steps approaching her, she pivoted slightly towards the sound. She kept a hand on the stone of the building but looked over her right shoulder at me. The first rays of light of the morning fell on the face of my wife. The whole situation seemed very fantastic, and I expected at any moment to awake from what was assuredly the most satisfying dream of all time. This couldn’t be reality. It was serene. I had so seldom experienced it - this peace - that I felt unworthy of it. But I was certainly not deserving of this woman's love, either, but I accepted any grace or joy her presence brought to me.

“Surely Asgard deserves a superior ruler to me, one who rises before the very sun to survey her kingdom...”

The soft pink lips turned into a gentle smile. “A Queen who runs away to go shooting wildlife and frowns upon too long spent sitting in her throne? I think not. Leave Asgard in the hands it is in. They are capable.” I stepped closer to her and she turned completely, letting me wrap my arms around her in an embrace. The embrace ended, and she entwined her tiny hand in those aforementioned. We surveyed the realm in peaceful silence.

At first it worried me that she seemed so uneasy at times like this. Sig assured me that such a moment would soon pass as long as she was given some time to quiet her soul alone with the environment. (She has told me previously that Midgardians of the past had a word for someone like her, a “flower child.” I rejected this term, suggesting instead that her adoration of the world around her suggested the caring attitude of a caregiver, and that she should instead be called “mother of flowers.”)

“My Queen, may I ask you something?”

“The regent of an entire realm, asking permission to speak? I have never heard of something so strange.” She knew that she was the only one I treated in this manner; my heart was her kingdom, and she held sole reign over it.

“Not any stranger than said regent kneeling before his queen, trying to distract her with humor so that he might not get impaled or worse.”

She told me my memory of our first meeting was much clearer than hers, but my reminiscence made her chuckle. “I see what you mean. Go ahead, my love.”

“I know you have found your home here. But you don’t regret coming, do you?”

“Of course not,” she nuzzled into my shoulder, "I made my decision long ago, my love. Your arms are the only home for me.” Her eyes opened and she turned to glance up at me. “May I ask a question of my own?”

“Surely.”

“Do you think if the ravens hadn’t found you in Midgard, that you would have stayed?”

“I can only hope that would be how things would have gone. You may have had to become acquainted with the village, though.”

She shuddered at the thought, and I chuckled, remembering how she had frozen when being faced with even one Norse girl‘s gaze upon her. We had come a very long way from that. “Would it have felt the same, like this?” She began to persist in the slightly irritating but mostly pleasurable habit of continuing carrying on a conversation while kissing me. I faced it as mental exercise to prove my worthiness for the promise of physical exertion.

“I do find that the extreme separation we had to experience, with only psychic glances of one another in between, made our reunion all the sweeter.” Lips emphasized my point.

“I agree.” We both knew that we were the people we had made each other to be.  We were wiser and knew the value of each moment. Whatever had happened in between our meetings was simply a footnote to the much more important story of our love.

She stopped her osculations and pulled back from me. There was anguish behind her words and in her eyes: “Let’s make sure we are never apart for that long ever again, ok?”

“I promise.”

We continued to murmur in hushed tones, but the conversation was soon cut short. Her cat, Svava, had found us in this far reach of the palace. The feline meowed loudly so she could bring to our attention that, firstly, “hello, I am present,” and secondly, “I am desirous of your attention so hey, look at me.” If there was anything other than myself and the outdoors that Queen Sigyn had a weak spot for, it was her pet. She picked it up, and I swear they were both purring. She ran her hands over the long white fur slowly and repeatedly. It was humorous how the color of this cat’s hair almost matched that of the White Lady of so long ago.

“I do not think she would make a very good Valkyrie. Can’t make herself the roast meat she loves so much, much less find the chosen slain to bring to Vahalla. She is indeed a strange beast.”

“Only the mirror of her mistress.”

“Nothing beats the original.”

Purposefully she set the feline down, quickly persuading me without words that perhaps the matters facing the kingdom today could wait another hour or so. We left an irritated cat in our wake as I carried Sig inside, her legs around my waist and lips firmly attached to mine.

To say we were happy was the largest understatement of all time.


End file.
